Restless footsteps walking down the hallway in the middle of the night,
I start hearing little sounds become so magnified here in the quiet,
The kitchen phone that rings and when you answer quickly speaking,
In a whisper, I'm left to wonder why.
I've got a lonely feeling that I'm hearing,
The sounds of goodbye,
The sounds of goodbye.
Stockinged feet that softly tiptoe through the room where I lay half asleep,
Clinking hangers, fumbling hands that close the closet door that always creaks,
The snapping latches on the suitcase that you carried with you,
To your mother's on those weekends many times.
The scratching of a pencil writing words upon a note I'll hate to read,
The pounding in my heart so loud it's drowning out the words I wanna speak,
The kitchen light that switches off while I lay here alone,
And sudden darkness echoes through my mind.
The clicking of your high heels down the staircase and across the marble floor,
I call your name and hear a deafening silence and the closing of a door,
A roaring motor in the street a stranger's cutting voice,
Then a violent rush of teardrops to my eyes.
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